


Post-Samaritan World

by AAfan



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Gen, Other, Post Samaritan, Post-Canon, Root is Alive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2019-08-19 21:04:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16542215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAfan/pseuds/AAfan
Summary: A story taking place after s5e13. Shaw's & Root's separate lives in the months post Samaritan, later when they finally cross paths again, missing friends and tying up some of those loose ends.The Machine comes back after surviving the battle with Samaritan, but she is damaged. The Machine has lost all of her advanced functions, and has gone back to being limited to her original protocol, to provide relevant and irrelevant numbers. Furthermore, since the government has shut down it's surveillance program for the time being, Shaw is getting both the relevant and irrelevant numbers, but the Machine does not have the capability to communicate the differentiation to her.The Machine did not give up on Root after the events of s5e10, and did her best to have Root revived.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so please forgive me and let me know if I've missed some etiquette. 
> 
> I loved the POI story and wanted to keep true to everything they did, including having Root die (although I didn't like it, I respect their decision because I appreciate their premise behind it). I think there is potential for some interesting points to be made out of her revival and how things might play out in her relationships with people, including Shaw, as a result. Although there is definitely some romantic relationship stuff in the story, I will also keep an overall storyline going in relation to the numbers case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt that we didn't get enough screen time with Root and Shaw finally together during the show's run, so within the first chapter I indulged in a flashback to between s5e9 and s5e10.

Since Samaritan’s defeat, some of the team’s previous safe houses and living quarters are now safe to access because Samaritan and its agents had never discovered the connection. Although Root’s old apartment is very nice, it pales in comparison to many of Harold’s luxurious suites where Sameen Shaw could have instead chosen to live. Root’s apartment is the same as she had left it. Shaw only brought a few of her personal belongings, her clothes and arsenal of weapons. And of course, Bear. Besides the dog bed, an oversupply of his favourite kibble, gigantic bones for him to chew, and the expensive toys Shaw brings home for Bear, Shaw wants to keep the apartment unchanged as much as possible. 

One cold mid-February morning, as Shaw puts on her long grey winter coat before heading out for the day, she calls out to Bear who is watching her calmly from his dog bed in the corner. Bear eagerly comes running and nuzzles Shaw as she strokes his fur. She takes one long look around Root’s old apartment as she takes a deep breath. Even though Root hadn’t been here in almost two years, Shaw likes the faint smell of her perfume that still lingers. Shaw gives bear one final stroke before telling him she’d be back later. 

Shaw finds herself alone when she arrives at the new base of operations where she now works together with Daniel Casey to complete both relevant and irrelevant missions sent by The Machine. Now that The Machine can only run her original core code where she can provide nothing more than numbers (due to her advanced functions being targeted and subsequently damaged or destroyed by Samaritan during their final battle), Shaw enlisted Casey to help fix The Machine and also to assist in missions where his hacking/technological skills would be useful. 

Shaw goes straight to the liquor cabinet and pours herself a glass of whiskey and downs it before pouring herself another glass. This time she returns the bottle to the cabinet and sits down with her glass while looking at the files on the new numbers they received last night on which Casey had been gathering information. Casey then walks in with two very large coffees, and before he puts them down, sees Shaw and comments, “Isn’t it a bit early for that?” indicating his disapproval on her choice of morning drink. 

Shaw quickly shoots back, “A bit judgy for someone who has ten of those a day,” as she points out his excessive coffee/caffeine habit. 

“It’s just temporary. I’ve spent months trying to fix The Machine’s code to make it talk like how it used to. I think I’ve finally made some progress recently, but we’ve been getting more and more numbers and I just need more time in a day to get it all done,” Casey says defensively. As he sets down his drinks and takes off his coat, he adds, “The Machine’s code is unique, and while I’ve had glimpses of it before, I’m not on the same level as Harold… or Root.”

Shaw’s mind wanders off at the mention of Root’s name. They had had just a little bit over a week together after her escape from Samaritan. 

*** flashback in Shaw's mind ***

After Root convinced Shaw to leave the park with her that night, Root took Shaw to a nearby low-end hotel where there were no security cameras and lax booking records. Shaw was surprised when Root had asked the man at the desk for a room with two beds. Shaw interrupted and said “Whatever you have available will do just fine,” so the man told them the few remaining rooms only had one double bed, and handed them a key.  
Once they got to the room, Shaw headed straight for the shower. She was tired and was glad to finally have a shower even in a dingy old crumbling hotel. It seemed a luxury hotel compared to some of the places she’s had to hide in over the last week. With the surprisingly strong water pressure, feeling the warm water hitting her body, she had not realized how sore her body felt. Perhaps she was no longer used to such grueling physical demands since she had been confined inside the same room for most of her captivity. She had kept herself in decent shape through exercise whenever possible, and while she was still almost as strong, her endurance had been impossible to keep at the same level as before. 

Her mind wandered, recalling various details of her most recent escape, analyzing them to help her decide whether this was yet another simulation. One thing that was obvious was that this one had been quite different than the rest. Did that mean this was in fact real? Or has Samaritan simply changed its direction for the simulations? After a good thirty minutes passed, Shaw remembered that Root was probably still in the hotel room on the other side of the bathroom door. Besides their conversation in the park, Root had been almost completely silent on their way here. It was very unlike her, but Shaw did remember that Root could often be unpredictable. She wanted to believe this was real, but she wouldn’t let herself because she didn’t know if she could trust herself and her own instincts anymore. 

When Shaw finished her shower, her long and slightly wavy hair left down to air dry, she came out of the bathroom dressed only in her boy-short style underwear and a sports bra, her preferred sleep attire, and saw Root sitting patiently at the foot of the bed. Root looked up at Shaw, but was quiet, perhaps pensive. She had taken off her jacket, but otherwise hadn’t appeared to make herself more comfortable. Shaw realized that ignoring someone and heading straight to the bathroom without so much as a word would have given almost anyone the impression that Shaw wanted them to leave. But of course, Root understood that Shaw just needed to take care of herself, and it didn’t mean Shaw wanted her gone. It was strange to Shaw that Root was so cool and calm now though, not showing any of the emotion that had come out during their initial encounter at the park, nor was there any hint of that perky psycho side of Root that she remembered. Shaw was sort of expecting Root to be either more emotional or all over her, maybe both. Not that Shaw didn’t appreciate the space, but for the first time, Shaw realized she actually missed Root’s flirty comments and sexual innuendos that she previously found annoying. Again, she couldn’t help but analyze these details at length in her mind, trying to determine whether this was the real Root or another simulation Root. 

Root, seeing Shaw switching between the present moment and her inner thoughts, got up and walked over to the corner of the room and picked up a bag that she had set on the desk earlier. On her way back to where Shaw was standing, she said, “I got you a few things while you were in the shower,” and gently touched Shaw’s shoulder motioning her to sit down. “Sorry, I know it’s not a steak, but nothing much is open around here at this hour,” Root said as she pulled two packages of beef jerky out of the bag. 

Shaw’s mind immediately came back to the moment and grabbed one of the packages, tore it open and started eating ravenously. As Root pulled out a bottle of vodka and turned to pour two glasses, Shaw, having already finished the first package, grabbed the second package of beef jerky and nearly inhaled it as well. When Root turned around with the glasses, a small smile broke through her cool demeanor as she could not contain the joy she felt upon seeing such a familiar side of Shaw. As Shaw was about to eat the last bite, she looked at Root and said, “I assume you didn’t want any. You did say these were for me.” 

“Here Shaw,” Root said as she handed Shaw one of the glasses. They both drank up, and Root poured another glass for Shaw but one was enough for Root. 

“So what’s the plan?” Shaw then asked, feeling a bit more clear headed for the moment. 

“Now that you took care of that Samaritan operative, we wait here until we can meet up with Harold and John. You should get some rest. There’s more snacks in the bag if you’re still hungry,” Root said as she headed to the bathroom to get herself washed up and ready for sleep. 

While Root was in the bathroom, Shaw devoured the rest of the contents of the bag, a few pepperoni sticks, some crackers, and cereal bars. She finished the second glass of vodka slowly as she laid on the bed and thought about Root. Shaw was certain of Root’s love for her, and Root somehow managed to elicit certain emotions from Shaw. Shaw had never wanted to admit how much she had come to care for Root, not until just before what she thought would have been her certain death, when she kissed Root in the elevator just before sacrificing herself to save the team at the stock exchange. Having missed Root during the last nine months or so, time she knew they would never get back, she wanted Root to know that those feelings haven’t changed, even if she wasn’t ready to have any type of romantic relationship right now given her current state of mind.

When Root came back into the room, she looked fresher from the shower, but tired. She had put on her burgundy silk night slip. (She had been carrying a change of clothes, sleepwear and underwear in her latest stolen vehicle in anticipation of having to change cover identities immediately after the Samaritan operative was taken out.) Root refrained from acting on her own desires but Shaw noticed that Root was aroused while she was telling Shaw to take the bed and that she would sleep in the chair. As Root approached the side of the bed to get one of the pillows, Shaw, not knowing how else to show she cared for Root, set aside her lack of desire and pulled Root, firmly but not aggressively, onto the bed with her and kissed her gently on the lips. Taking Root by surprise, Shaw then made her way on top of Root and continued to kiss Root softly on the lips, then her ears and worked her way down Root’s beautiful long neck. While it felt good, Root knew something didn’t feel right. Root stopped Shaw and told her, “Sameen, you don’t have to do this for me. I can’t imagine all that you’ve been through. I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. Just knowing you care is enough for me.” 

As Root started to get up off the bed while still under Shaw, Shaw, somewhat relieved, rolled off to one side but kept an arm around Root’s waist. “It’s more comfortable if you sleep here,” Shaw said. Root turned to face Shaw and smiled. Shaw found Root’s smile so warm and reassuring that she let herself believe, at least for the moment, that this was real. Root had set aside all her questions and worries for the time being, and decided that she was just going to enjoy the present moment. She softly stroked Sameen’s thick long hair and gave her a little kiss. “Thank you for sending me that message, for not giving up on me,” Shaw said. Then they silently stared into each other’s eyes for a few minutes until they both fell into a deep sleep.

Shaw had insisted on staying holed up in the hotel room for days, and Root had been more than happy to stay with her except while on missions for The Machine and when Shaw needed some time alone. Root listened to Shaw when she wanted to talk, and gave her space when she didn’t. By Monday, Shaw was starting to feel better. She was relieved that she still hadn’t killed Harold and John since they had met the morning before near the Queensbridge. She was glad to see Fusco there too. She always thought he deserved to know the truth. Still, she could appreciate that Harold’s and John’s insistence to keep him in the dark for as long as possible did actually protect him because he wasn’t in any of her simulations and hence hadn’t been designated by Samaritan as a target for elimination. 

Then Shaw thought about the possibility that perhaps Fusco had just been discovered in the real world, prompting Samaritan to change the direction of the simulations to include him, hence explaining why things have gone quite differently this time. Still, that wouldn’t account for the changes in Root’s demeanor. Samaritan couldn’t have known about this side of her, and it couldn’t have come from Shaw’s own thoughts since it was new to her too. While it would be a long time before Shaw stopped questioning everything, she had started to believe that it was possible that she was in fact now in the real world. 

As Shaw was finishing up cleaning her new arsenal of guns, Root came back with dinner. She had brought a porterhouse steak, large enough for four people even though they were only two, along with a few sides. She also brought a couple of bottles of whiskey that she had taken from Harold’s liquor cabinet at the main safe house. After dinner, Shaw watched some news on TV as Root cleaned up after the meal. Root had been glancing sideways at Shaw, and before she could finish clearing away everything, she was suddenly overwhelmed by all of the feelings that she had been suppressing over the last several days and started to cry with choked up sobs.  
Root had been feeling so many different emotions since finding Shaw and learning of what Samaritan had done to her. She was feeling elated to have found Shaw, but it broke her heart to see Shaw in such a state. She was angry about what they did to her and at herself for not finding Shaw sooner, but she was relieved that Shaw was still alive. She was worried about Shaw, desperate to do anything she could to help her, but also hopeful that things would work out between them. She wanted to show Shaw just how much she missed her and needed her, but she also didn’t want to overburden Shaw while Shaw was dealing with her own issues. 

Shaw looked up and realized just how much Root had been suffering during their time apart, and how she had likely been struggling the last few days as well, although she was good at not showing it, at least until now. Root turned quickly and went into the bathroom and closed the door so that Shaw couldn’t see her in her current state. She knew Shaw wasn’t made for that type of thing, dealing with other people’s feelings, that is. Shaw, not having moved from where she was sitting on the bed watching TV, turned down the volume and listened to Root crying quietly through the door. She had never seen Root like this before, so vulnerable. She had always appreciated Root’s ability to control her emotions, and yet, Shaw was not annoyed by this display of raw emotion, but instead started to notice a pain in her chest that she had never felt before. In that moment, Shaw knew she was meant to be with Root even though she had been suppressing the desire to be something more than they were. She finally pushed her reservations and concerns aside, and against every grain in her body and everything she knew about herself, she decided that she would give it a try. 

“Are you okay?” Shaw calls out to Root through the wall. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Root replies, her voice sounding steady between the last few sobs. “I’ll be out in a minute.” 

When Root had come out of the bathroom shortly afterwards, she avoided eye contact with Shaw even though her freshly washed face, beautiful as ever, showed almost no trace of crying. Root resumed cleaning up after the meal as Shaw moved from where she was sitting to the foot of the bed. “Root, there’s something I haven’t told you about the simulations,” Shaw said. “You know how I said that while Samaritan controlled the simulations, it played off of my thoughts to create the environment and scenarios within each simulation?” Root paused what she was doing, but didn’t turn around to look at Shaw, fearing that she might break down in tears again. “Well, in the seven thousand plus simulations, in almost all of those, at some point, somehow, I kept ending up at your place… with you,” suggesting that they had been not just physically intimate in those simulations. Shaw got up and walked to where Root was still standing with her back toward Shaw. “At the stock exchange, you had said that I’d realize it someday.” Shaw paused and gently turned Root so that she could see her face before continuing, “I guess what I’m trying to say is, maybe this is someday, Root.” 

Shaw had reached up and started kissing Root’s soft lips, at first gently, and gradually more aggressively. Root, although having wanted this for so long, stopped for a moment, “Sameen,” she said. She wanted to make sure that her loss of composure hadn’t pressured Shaw into what was about to happen. “Are you ready for this?” Root asked in a soft, concerned voice as her hand cradled Shaw’s head on one side near the base of the head.  
Shaw grabbed Root’s neck, pushed her against the wall and said, “I’ve never been more ready.” 

Shaw aggressively kissed Root on the mouth and released her grip on Root’s neck only to pull her shirt up over her head and toss it to the floor. Root started sucking and biting Shaw’s neck and shoulders while Shaw rushed to undress both of them. Shaw then grabbed both of Root’s hands, held them against the wall above Root’s head and started to bite Root all over the neck and worked her way down. Before she got much farther than just under the collarbone, Root suddenly grabbed one of Shaw’s arms, twisted it behind her back and pushed Shaw violently, chest first, onto the desk just to the right of where Root had been standing trapped against the wall. Root then started licking and breathing into Shaw’s left ear and sucking on her earlobe while she held Shaw down. Then starting from the neck and working her way down Shaw’s back, Root slowly alternated between kisses so soft Shaw could barely feel them and scraping her teeth over Shaw’s skin, teasing Shaw until she was getting angry and impatient. Root felt Shaw getting hotter and more flush the angrier she got. Finally, Root, having reached Shaw’s lower back, lost some of her leverage on Shaw and Shaw quickly freed her arm, grabbed Root and threw her onto the bed. Shaw then pinned Root down and proceeded to devour her as if she were a Beatrice Lillie sandwich from Park’s Deli. 

Afterwards, as they lay in bed, they talked about what the world would be like if they could defeat Samaritan. Root believed that on the surface, it wouldn’t look much different than the present world because no one even knew they were a world at war. People would continue to do bad things, but a lot of people would continue to do good things too. For a few people, it would mean the difference between life and death, and still others might turn their lives around. But for the most part, humanity would go on relatively unchanged, slowly heading toward destruction if left completely to their own devices. She admitted that Samaritan may not have been wrong about everything, but if free will is taken away, it doesn’t matter if the human race survives because no one would truly be living. 

*** end of flashback ***

Shaw, remembering the world she saw in the several weeks after Samaritan’s destruction, thinks aloud, “Immediately post-Samaritan, the world showed me what it can be. People helping each other rebuild, showing compassion and understanding for each other, cooperating and even caring for each other despite their differences. But after a few months, memory fades and the world is back to the usual. Root was right. The apathy, selfishness, divisiveness, intolerance, hate. It’s getting harder to tell who the good guys are, if there are any.” 

Casey, unsure whether Shaw is actually talking to him, responds, “It would be easier if The Machine could just tell us what these people are up to. Unfortunately, that’s all I was able to find out so far,” pointing to the files Shaw was flipping through. There doesn’t appear to be any obvious connection between the twenty-one numbers. The numbers consist of people from various socioeconomic backgrounds. Some of them are based in DC, and some are based in New York City. Among them is a black woman in her mid-fifties named Mona, a Caucasian woman in her late twenties named Brittany, and a baby-faced man named Greg in his early thirties. “It looks like Greg is headed to a seminar for entrepreneurs this morning. The address is in the file. I couldn’t find anything on the exact whereabouts of the others yet but I’ll let you know as soon as I have anything,” Casey says. 

As Shaw tapes up each number’s photo onto the large whiteboard, splitting them into two groups, she instructs Casey, “We’re gonna have to call in a favour to the DC team. Can you ask Mr. Pierce if his team can help us surveil the DC numbers? Just have them help us gather some intel. Tell them to leave any fun for me.” As she finishes taping up each number’s photo, Shaw then points to the ones in New York. “These fifteen are for us,” she says.

“Us? I may be a skillful hacker, but I’m not exactly Indiana Jones, remember,” Casey says nervously. 

“Relax, hot shot. I enlisted an old acquaintance,” Shaw says. 

“Can we trust this person?” Casey says with concern.

“He’s a good thief, has a moral code, and he’s smart… among other things,” Shaw says with a smirk.

“I don’t know. What about your cop friend?” Casey suggests.

“These could be relevant numbers. Without knowing what we’re dealing with yet, we can’t involve Lionel. He’s a good cop. We can’t put him in a position to kill people for us.”

“Alright then. Who’s this acquaintance?” Casey asks. 

“I’m meeting him in ten minutes, three blocks from here. You can come if you’d like.” Shaw offers, knowing that Casey would almost certainly decline. 

“No, I’ll stay here and see if I can find out more information on these numbers and how they’re connected. And of course, I’ll have to work on The Machine’s code as well. You go ahead without me,” Daniel says. 

Shaw heads out and walks briskly towards the meet up place. As she approaches, she spots the man standing at the corner with his back facing her.  
“Hello Tomas,” Shaw says with a sly smile as she stops right behind him, probably a little too close. 

Tomas smiles and turns around. “Hello…Shaw,” says Tomas with a smirk on his face, obviously feeling a bit smug that he knows her real name. 

“It’s Nadya to you,” Shaw replies with a slight chuckle, remembering her profile on Angler when they had last worked a job together. “How was Barcelona?” 

“Good. You missed out on a nice score,” Tomas tells Shaw. 

“I’ll bet. Probably bought yourself some nice new toys,” Shaw says. 

“A few. But there’s something else I want and it’s not something that can be bought,” Tomas says, shooting Shaw a look that in no uncertain terms meant he was talking about her. 

Ignoring Tomas’ come on, Shaw shifts her attention to their current mission. “My target’s headed to 5th Avenue & 56th. Where’s your car?”

“I forgot, you like getting right down to business. Don’t you ever have time for pleasure?" Tomas asks, disappointedly. 

“Us doing business together is pleasure,” Shaw replies as they walk towards Tomas’ car.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lines "Are you ready for this?" and "I've never been more ready" were taken from the Clexacon 2017 improv scene that Amy Acker and Sarah Shahi did during their panel. I just thought it would be nice to incorporate something from the actresses themselves into the work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root wakes up from an induced hibernation state (not an induced coma) but has no memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted Chapter 2 and 3 at the same time as both cover what happened to Root but the difference in timing of events made it not seem to flow within a single chapter. (Chapter 2 being post-Samaritan time, parallel to Chapter 1, while Chapter 3 is going back to during and immediately after s5e10.) 
> 
> It was important to me that the story attempted to keep true to the fact that Root actually did die, so as not to diminish the value of her sacrifice. Additionally, her losing her memories is another form of death, similar to when Harold said that his father had died years before his biological death when he lost all his memories. Recovering from death can't be an easy process so it will take some time.

A little distance outside of St. Moritz, Dr. Selene Lee sits in a comfortable armchair sipping her usual morning tea while looking out the window as the sun lights up the snow covered Alps. As an addition to the main house, the private wing was originally designed to be used in a business venture aiming to provide hospital care in an environment that is more comfortable and private to wealthy clients, usually ones who get hurt while vacationing in St. Moritz either skiing or participating in high risk sports and activities. Within the private wing, the spacious patient room has a comfortable sitting area in front of the half wall windows spanning the entire width of the room, showcasing the aforementioned breathtaking view of the Alps. There are several medical supply storage and equipment rooms, and a small office. Additionally, there are also two guest bedrooms, an entertainment room, a kitchen and separate dining room which guests and their families or friends are welcome to use. 

Truthfully, Dr. Lee had hoped to one day, continue her medical experimentation and research work that she had been forced to put on hold indefinitely. The business venture was meant to be temporary, and she chose it not because of the viability of the business but mainly because it would serve as a convenient front for when she resumes her life’s work. Coincidentally, several months ago, she was given an unexpected opportunity to do so, just weeks before she was set to open her new practice. 

On this cold February morning, she finishes her tea, opens her journal and starts to write, “Day 119”. She then physically examines her patient, and notes that the scar from the removal of the cochlear implant as well as the bullet wounds have been healing better in the last few weeks. This likely indicates that the effects of the induced hibernation state which has delayed some of the body’s cell regeneration abilities is wearing off. The patient’s brain activity also seems to have steadily increased which is a positive sign that the patient will have at least a certain level of quality of life once she awakens. Whether the patient will ever be able to resume living a normal life, or one as extraordinary as hers, remains to be seen. 

Even though it has been almost two years since Dr. Lee last experimented on a deceased patient, she knows this time will be different. This patient has shown good progress and she has been able to survive without life support systems while in the induced hibernation state. The Machine had been right about everything so far, and although Dr. Lee hasn’t heard back from her in over three months, Dr. Lee is diligently preparing for the next steps. 

As Dr. Lee scribbles the patient’s vital readings into her journal, she is startled by what she recognizes as The Machine’s voice. 

“Where am I?” she asks. 

Dr. Lee realizes her mistake, and even though their voices are identical, this time the voice is actually coming from her patient, Samantha Groves. Samantha, is finally coming out of her induced hibernation state and groggily tries to sit up, Dr. Lee puts down her journal and helps her adjust the hospital bed to a slightly more upright position. 

“Do you know who you are? Do you know what happened to you?” the doctor asks Samantha. 

“I don’t remember,” says Samantha. Starting to realize how lost she is feeling, the panic comes into her voice as she cries, “I don’t remember anything.” 

“Please try to relax,” says Dr. Lee as she gently touches Samantha’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. “You’ve been laying here for the last 4 months so you need to take it easy. I’m Dr. Selene Lee. I will try to answer your questions, but first I’ll need to do some tests. Can you tell me anything you remember? Perhaps your name, an event or someone you know?” After a brief silence, the doctor asks “Do you remember anything at all?”

Samantha shakes her head. 

While Dr. Lee conducts some physical tests on Samantha, she continues, “Your name is Samantha Groves. You like to be called Root.” 

“Root? What kind of name is that? Please, call me Samantha,” the patient says. 

“Ok, Samantha,” says the doctor. 

“So, what else can you tell me about myself? What about my family? Or my friends? When can I see them?” Samantha wonders. 

Dr. Lee, unsure of how to answer, pretends to concentrate on the current test procedure while she carefully chooses her words. Certainly the facts of Samantha’s complex and extraordinary life would be incomprehensible to most people, and further confusing Samantha or overwhelming her in her current state would not be ideal. 

Root had served The Machine, an artificial superintelligence, whom she revered as a god. She was a prodigy with computers from a young age, and had easily turned that skill into a life of high crime. Her friends are all likely dead, or in hiding, not dissimilar to Dr. Lee herself. As for family, Samantha’s mother was ill for a long time and died when Samantha was twenty two years old. She never knew her father. 

Not wanting to overwhelm Samantha, Dr. Lee finally answers, “I’m the only person who knows where you are. I’m trying to keep you hidden, to keep you safe.”

Samantha suddenly becomes distrustful and starts screaming at the doctor as she tries to get up out of the hospital bed. “What? No you can’t do that! Who the hell do you think you are, keeping me here? What have you done to me?!” 

“You can’t leave, not in your current state. You won’t be able to protect yourself,” Dr. Lee explains. 

“Protect myself? From what?” Samantha scoffs. 

“Please, for your own sake and that of your friends, stay here, at least for the time being,” the doctor pleads. “If you leave here now, there are people hunting you who will kill you on sight. And if they don’t find you first, the best you can hope for is being discovered by the authorities and locked up for life.” 

“That’s crazy. What did I do? Why should I believe anything you say?” Samantha yells angrily as she tries to push Dr. Lee out of her way. Dr. Lee easily prevents Samantha from leaving since Samantha is now quite physically weakened from lying unconscious in bed for months. Dr. Lee grabs Samantha’s arm and pushes her back down onto the hospital bed. 

“They killed you!” Dr. Lee says sternly. “Not ALMOST killed you. You really died. That’s at least one very good reason why I’m keeping you hidden!” Then, softening her tone, “A mutual friend sent me to help when she sensed you guys were in trouble. I know all this sounds crazy, and I couldn’t save you from dying, but I revived you after the doctors at the hospital in New York gave up on you. You need to be hidden, including from your friends. It’s too dangerous for all of you and you can’t help them right now.” 

“So you know what happened to my friends, then?” Samantha asks. 

“I know they were in hiding, and that one of them was exposed. You died protecting him,” the doctor replies. 

“Is he okay? Where are my friends now?” Samantha wonders. 

“Sorry, I’m not sure. I didn’t see him, or any of your other friends,” the doctor says. “I did see a detective at the hospital morgue though. Would you know who that is? From his expression, it looked like he knew you. He was on the phone with someone, maybe with one of your friends? I honestly don’t know.” 

“Who am I? Am I a criminal? Am I a good person or am I bad? Please, what else can you tell me?” Samantha pleads. 

“There’s good and bad in all of us. Besides, it’s all subjective. What I do know is that you were capable of extraordinary things and you were willing to make changes and do anything once you found something to believe in,” the doctor responds vaguely but with a sense of admiration. 

“And what was that? What did I believe in?” Samantha asked.

“I’m not sure that I understand it myself,” Dr. Lee replied. “But that doesn’t make you wrong,” added Dr. Lee in an attempt to reassure her. 

The doctor, failing in her plan to not overwhelm Samantha, and wanting to wait until Samantha is calm before proceeding with additional testing, says, “I know this is a lot to absorb and I’m sorry I can’t tell you more about your friends. I’ll come back later to check on you and finish the tests.” Realizing her manner may appear to lack compassion, the doctor adds, “For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry I wasn’t able to save your memories, but I’m still working on it. Your brain was badly damaged from the lack of oxygen, and I just need more time to work it out and then you’ll be able to remember almost everything again.” Dr. Lee gives Samantha a pat on the hand, meaning to be comforting, but instead comes off as a little robotic and awkward. Before turning to leave the room, she tells Samantha, “You’ll need to stay here for at least a few more months, so please let me know what I can do to make you more comfortable.”

Samantha, nods in acknowledgement and seeing there were no immediate requests, Dr. Lee heads toward the door, leaving Samantha alone with her thoughts. Samantha gets up and tries to walk around the room a little, and gets as far as the sitting area in front of the window. She wonders whether she can trust Dr. Lee, but gathers that she has no other choice for the time being. She questions whether the doctor is really going to help her regain her memories. She tries to make sense of all the things Dr. Lee had said, but Samantha soon finds herself too tired to be able to think clearly. She does however, appreciate the beautiful view of the Alps, so she sits down in the same oversized armchair that Dr. Lee had been sitting on before. The chair is extremely comfortable and Samantha soon dozes off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Machine tries to help save Root.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to ignore how it could have been made possible for Root to still be alive, so this is an attempt at a plausible story for how it was done (although admittedly, you may need to suspend your disbelief quite a bit). I also wanted to show that The Machine did care deeply for Root, and even though she couldn't stop her from dying, she still didn't stop trying to save her.

One day last October, at exactly three o’clock in the afternoon after Dr. Selene Lee’s weekly volunteer shift finishes, she receives a string of unnerving messages from an unknown number, claiming to be someone named Thornhill. Somehow, Thornhill knows about her past secret medical experimentation and research work, and instructs her to take a large amount of O negative blood to New York City along with the necessary drugs and hibernation serum that she developed in her experimental medical work. Frightened from being discovered and distrustful of Thornhill’s objectives and interest in her, she starts planning her exit strategy. However, Thornhill continues to message her. Dr. Lee finally responds to Thornhill insisting she is unable to help, and that she is simply a general surgeon who just finished her weekly volunteer shift while on a break from her career.

Thornhill, desperate to get the doctor’s attention long enough to gain her consideration, reveals the doctor’s true identity and that she is hiding from Samaritan, just like the people Thornhill is trying to help. The doctor’s birth name is Shan Ying Liu although her legal name was changed to Shan Ying Zhao when she was adopted at seven years old by a high-ranking Chinese government official. Shan Ying is really a neurosurgeon, whereas Dr. Selene Lee, a general surgeon, is a carefully crafted alias that was created shortly after the doctor started performing medical experiments on human patients. The messages continue to reveal that the alias was created by someone whom Thornhill had watched closely for some time, before Thornhill enlisted that person to become an agent. Knowing with certainty that Dr. Selene Lee was an alias, it was easy for Thornhill to make the connection to the doctor, especially because the doctor had been sought by Greer for her medical knowledge and capabilities. Having worked together in the past while at the hospital in Dongsheng, Greer had revealed his plans for Samaritan and offered her a high ranking position in hopes to persuade her to join his team permanently. 

In order to convince the doctor to help Thornhill’s team members, Thornhill shows her some video and audio footage of some of the missions the team members have completed, along with some discussions on their objectives, regrets, hopes as well as the current state of war between two ASIs. 

The doctor surmises that the other ASI whom the team members refer to as “The Machine” is in fact Thornhill. She admits that The Machine and her agents seem to be working for an honorable cause in addition to saving the world from Samaritan’s control. She is especially inspired by Root’s intelligence and ability to take action, often risking her own life for the greater good. While the members of Team Machine have managed to survive the last year and a half, Samaritan has just discovered one of The Machine’s human agents, likely putting all of them in grave danger. The doctor makes up her mind and follows The Machine’s instructions and gathers the stored blood supplies, the hibernation serum she secretly developed, some acetazolamide, as well as some surgical tools and supplies. She heads to the airport and gets onto a Gulfstream G650 jet which was chartered for her by Mr. Ernest Thornhill to take her to New York City. 

Upon landing in New York just after 6:30 pm EST, Dr. Lee gets into a car that was already waiting for her. As the doctor enters St. Mary’s Hospital, The Machine tells the doctor that Samantha Groves is registered as a Jane Doe at the hospital and the doctors had just stopped resuscitation efforts and declared her dead. Her body is still in the operating theatre while the nurses are getting ready to start post-mortem care and prepare her body for the coroner. Dr. Lee follows The Machine’s directions and arrives to the operating room in less than 2 minutes. Before the nurses can remove the IV tubing, the nurses are paged, asking them to report immediately to another department to help with an urgent situation where additional nursing support is needed. 

After the nurses leave the operating theatre, Dr. Lee slips into the room and begins a blood transfusion on Samantha using the blood supplies she had brought with her. The Machine tells the doctor that the resuscitation protocol she developed from one area of her medical experimental work was extremely close to succeeding, but patients that have reached the state of being declared dead do not have blood (or transfused blood) with the properties required to sustain the brain and body cells before and during the induced hibernation state. The blood needs to carry more oxygen and be better able to conserve it for effective distribution to the entire body and brain, along with overcoming re-circulatory issues. The Machine explains that the blood supplies collected by the doctor from local donors in Switzerland who are acclimatized to higher altitudes provide these additional properties. While the blood starts to enter Samantha’s body, Dr. Lee sees the extensive damage and quickly works to close up the remaining internal wounds caused by the bullets. When she is done, she adds the hibernation serum into a cooling IV solution. 

The nurses return from the false emergency feeling a little confused, but as the shift change occurs, Dr. Lee intercepts them in time and tells them that the Jane Doe’s post mortem care is being completed by the new shift. The nurses thank her and go to finish up a few tasks at the end of their shift before leaving for the day. 

Unfortunately getting Samantha in for an fMRI would be impossible without being detected, so the doctor opts to do an EEG to understand the extent of brain damage. While an EEG is not ideal for the situation, luckily Dr. Lee has extensive experience and can discern that Samantha’s brain can still process signals sent through the auditory nerve and at least several other regions. Sadly, but not unexpectedly, a significant portion of her brainstem and other brain cells are damaged or already dead from lack of oxygen. Despite receiving generally good resuscitation care, Dr. Lee understands why the hospital’s doctors had given Samantha up for dead since the loss of circulatory and respiratory functions was determined to be irreversible, in addition to the extensive physical injuries that were sustained. 

At The Machine’s suggestion, to optimize the medical outcome in the short time they have before risking detection, the doctor uses the cochlear implant to send electrical signals through the auditory nerve for transmission to a working area of the brain to teach it to regulate Samantha’s circulatory and respiratory functions. Dr. Lee injects acetazolamide and administers more epinephrine to boost the circulatory system and to help with the adjustment to diminished respiratory and circulatory capabilities. The doctor then repairs or creates new brain connections where she sees that Samantha’s abilities had been obviously damaged or lost completely. Functions that are similar in all human beings such as gross and fine motor skills or sensory information processing are recreated quickly using the blueprints she had developed. Finally, Dr. Lee replicates functions of the hypothalamus to adjust the sleep cycle, body temperature, hormones and appetite to allow for a hibernation period of approximately three to four months which would give adequate time for some healing and gradual adjustment to the new state. While Samantha’s pulse and breathing are unnoticeable even on the hospital monitoring equipment, Dr. Lee knows what to look for and is satisfied that Samantha’s condition has been stabilized. She then prepares Samantha’s body to make it appear ready for a coroner examination and has an attendant bring Samantha to the hospital morgue. 

Dr. Selene Lee returns half an hour later, this time as a member of the coroner’s office who has come to pick up Samantha’s body. She arrives at the hospital morgue and sees a curly-haired NYPD detective hovering over Samantha’s body. From the look on the detective’s face, it is clear that he knows Samantha and appears to call someone to share the news of her death. However, he leaves a few minutes later without helping to identify her body. Selene worries briefly about the NYPD’s interest in Samantha, but she knows it would be impossible for the detective to realize that Samantha’s body was in fact no longer dead. 

Selene hides Samantha away at a safe house in the city that The Machine had arranged. In the meantime, she must find a way to throw Samaritan off their tracks as it is only a matter of time before they come looking for Samantha’s body. Selene uses her cover ID as a coroner office employee and gains access to records to see if there are any other Jane Doe bodies that could act as a decoy. There is one who was about 2 years younger than Samantha, who had died after what was determined to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Shy of murdering someone with a closer description, this is likely their best chance. 

The Machine is reluctant as she has been taught that no one human life is more important than another, and the use of a dead person’s body would be disrespecting the value of that life. Selene disagrees, especially where a person’s already certain death could possibly help save another human life from the same fate. As The Machine is unable to find another viable option, Selene works to have the coroner examination concluded and the body cleared for burial without embalmment in a week. Without embalmment, the body should decay beyond recognition in short time, making it less likely for the switch to be discovered. Prior to burial, Selene managed to transfer Samantha’s cochlear implant into the Jane Doe. Seeing as the damage has already been done, The Machine alters all of Samantha’s DNA, dental and other medical records to match that of the Jane Doe. 

The Machine, recognizing that Samantha suffered substantial brain damage and has lost all of her memories, further tasks the doctor to re-implant Samantha’s memories and reconstruct her brain connections with the remaining functioning brain cells. The Machine knows that Dr. Lee has extensive experience and a high rate of success in this area, but she also knows there is only a slim chance that Samantha will ever be the same. The doctor’s past cases involved patients who suffered significantly less brain damage, and the procedures she performed were smaller in scope. This is the first time that the doctor will be attempting such an extensive and complex procedure. To assist with this task, The Machine arranges to provide Dr. Lee with all of her archives on Samantha so that she could start the complicated process. 

With the help she received from The Machine and this new opportunity to continue her life’s work, Selene is optimistic that she may soon achieve her life’s goal, to bring meaningful life back to those who have died from acts of violence. She can’t remember the last time she felt so invigorated. Just before Selene gets on the plane to fly back home to Switzerland with Samantha where she will care for her in while in hiding, Selene tells The Machine, “Thank you for giving me a job; for helping me fulfil my purpose.”

The Machine responds, “Thank you for doing what needed to be done. Back at the coroner’s, whether it was the right thing to do or not, thank you, for giving me hope.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw and Tomas go on a mission, and Shaw later tracks down an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the things that I liked about POI is that they brought multiple viewpoints to an issue, and didn’t generally label any side/person as entirely good/bad, and placed importance on how you do things and not just the end goal. I hope to keep with that message throughout, no matter what issues (political or otherwise) are actually brought up. There will be people who will agree/disagree with what I may write, and I respectfully ask that any discussion of the political issues themselves remain out of the comments. I am not going to be perfect, and to paraphrase Harold Finch (Snafu, S5E2), I can’t promise you that I’ll always do the right thing, but I will do the best I can. 
> 
> Sorry it has taken so long to update. The next few chapters should not take nearly as long between updates as I have written ahead quite a bit, but still just need to work out some specific details. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

On the car ride over, Tomas asks Shaw more questions about her job and she tells him as little as he needs to know. She mentions that Daniel Casey is her new partner, but the job is pretty much the same as before, with less resources. Shaw and Tomas park the car underground and head inside the building. 

They spot their target, Greg, who is approximately five feet and four inches tall with a thin build, loitering in the building lobby. Tomas goes to the mezzanine level to order a latte for Shaw and a dark roast coffee for himself while Shaw gets close enough to bluejack Greg’s phone. Shaw and Tomas then sit down with their coffee as they watch their target. He appears to be skipping the seminar’s morning reception that started at 8 am. Shaw notices that the actual seminar is scheduled to start in less than ten minutes and is wondering whether Greg is there for the seminar at all. 

Finally, a tall woman stops to talk with Greg. She is wearing black pants and a long cashmere coat. Shaw wonders how she’d been walking outside in those stiletto pumps in this weather. There wasn’t a lot of snow on the ground in the core of the city, but it was still slippery outside. Maybe she’d changed into them before meeting Greg. She didn’t seem to have come in from the outside cold just now. Her back is still turned to them while Greg hands her something small before heading for the elevators. The woman lingers, fidgeting with whatever Greg handed to her as Shaw waits for her to turn around so she can take a picture and ID her. 

“Why don’t you go follow Greg. I’ll keep an eye on his friend and see if I can bluejack her phone,” Shaw tells Tomas. 

“Sure thing,” Tomas says as he heads toward the elevators.

“Casey, you there?” Shaw calls to Daniel through their mesh network. 

“Yeah, Shaw. What do you need?” Daniel responds from his computer station back at their base. 

“I need you to ID someone,” Shaw says as she waits for the woman to turn around. When the woman finally heads toward the elevators, Shaw takes the best side view picture she can of the heavily made-up woman and sends it to Daniel. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Daniel responds. 

Shaw reaches the elevator bank just as the woman gets onto a packed elevator with the 9 am rush and is forced to wait for the next one. Shaw misses her chance to bluejack the woman’s phone.

Tomas follows Greg as he gets off of the elevator at the 25th floor where the seminar is being held. Exiting the elevator, Greg turns right to sign in at the reception table and heads straight to the seminar room where people have started to seat themselves. Tomas tries to follow but is stopped at reception and asked if he’s a registered participant. 

“Sorry, sir, you can’t go in unless you check in first. What’s your name?” the receptionist asks. 

“Name’s Bellani. Adrian Bellani,” Tomas says coolly. 

“Sorry sir, but you’re not on the list. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the receptionist says. 

“Are you sure? I know I registered a little late. They promised there was still a spot for me. Would you mind double-checking?” Tomas asks. 

“Sure, but I’ll need some more information to see if I can find it,” the receptionist says. 

Just then, the tall woman whom they had seen speaking to Greg earlier, came off the elevator and headed to the reception desk. “Oh, I hope they haven’t started yet,” says the woman as she rushes to the sign in desk. 

“If you’ll excuse me a moment while I check her in, I’ll get back to you,” the receptionist tells Tomas. 

“Sure, no problem,” Tomas replies as he steps to the side, but stays within earshot. He’s relieved this interruption will buy some time for Daniel to hack in and create a back dated registration for him. 

“I think they’re going to start in a couple of minutes. What’s your name?” the receptionist asks the woman. 

“Gracie Raffe” replies the woman. “I hope I can still get a good seat.”

“Should be some seats in either the very first row or at the very back. It’s funny how people want to get a good seat, but most are too shy to sit in the first row at these sorts of events,” the receptionist points out. 

“Oh, here you are on the list. Would you mind signing next to your name for me. Thanks, Gracie. I hope you enjoy the seminar.”

“Thank you,” Gracie replies before hurrying to the seminar room. 

The receptionist turns back to Tomas. “Ok, let’s see if we can find your registration information. Do you know what date you submitted the registration form?” 

Through his earpiece, Tomas receives Daniel’s instructions on what to say. 

“Wednesday, just last week,” Tomas repeats. 

The receptionist checks her email messages from last Wednesday and finds an unread email from one of her bosses, asking her to add an Adrian Bellani to the seminar registration list. “Oh, it looks like you did register. I’m sorry I missed it. Please don’t tell my boss.”

“Don’t worry, I was a late add. It was my fault really,” Tomas said with his charming smile. 

“Thanks,” the receptionist said. “You better go, I think they’re about to start.”

“Thank you,” Tomas says as he heads into the seminar room. Through their secured communications line, Tomas tells the team he spots Greg sitting in the first row, on the rightmost seat closest to the door. Several seats away, he sees the tall woman sitting in the middle left of the front row, oddly closest to the speaker podium despite the row being almost entirely empty. Tomas makes his way toward the back of the room and takes a seat. 

After a few minutes of stopping on what seemed like every single floor with people bumping, pushing and shuffling in and out of the packed elevator, Shaw finally gets up to the 25th floor. She heads to the washroom on the opposite side of the elevator bank and climbs up into the drop ceiling and starts to crawl through the cramped space in the direction of the seminar room. 

“Hey, you guys got a minute?” Daniel’s voice comes through the team’s secure line. “I can’t tell if that woman is one of our num..um.. suspects. Can you take a look at the pictures again and tell me if any of them are her?” The only picture Shaw was able to get didn’t show her full face, and the woman was wearing thick layers of make-up, making it difficult for Daniel to match it to one of people in their files.

“Talk to Tomas, I’m a little busy literally crawling my way into the seminar,” Shaw replies.

The seminar starts and Tomas decides to activate audio recording on Greg’s phone in case any useful information comes about while he’s focusing on helping Daniel identify the woman. While Tomas scrutinizes the pictures Daniel had sent him over the phone, he doesn’t notice over the hum of the heating system that the speaker is getting in a heated debate with someone near the front of the room. He texts Daniel, “None of these look like her, even if she wore less make-up. Try the name she gave the receptionist, Gracie Raffe. Does that help?” 

“That’s interesting. We don’t have a Gracie, but we have a Gregory Raffe. Maybe a brother or something? I’m sending you his picture,” Daniel says. 

“There’s a whole list of people?” Tomas thinks to himself, wondering if he’s in over his head getting involved with Shaw. He gets up and strains to see their targets at the front of the room and notices they are in a verbal sparring match with the speaker. 

Shaw, dropping herself into a small empty meeting room just a few doors down from the seminar room gets on a private line with Daniel and says, “But why would we get his number and not hers? That doesn’t make any sense. Are you sure the Machine’s copy isn’t a little screwy? We don’t know what Samaritan’s copy did to her in that final battle.” 

“She seems to be in working order from what I can tell. The few numbers we’ve gotten in the last several months were all legit,” Daniel says. 

“Well, maybe something suddenly went wrong. Why would it give us twenty-one numbers all of a sudden, none of which appear to be connected?” Shaw asked, not really expecting an answer. “Whatever. When Tomas and I are done here, I’m going to see if I can track down an old friend for help.” 

By the time Tomas makes his way to the front of the seminar room, the heated argument had escalated to pushing and shoving between Greg and a few attendees. After the speaker calls for security, Greg lunges at the speaker and knocks him to the ground. One of the attendees pries Greg off of the speaker and others start beating him. A larger crowd gathers as punches are being thrown on all sides. 

Tomas notices the woman now standing on a chair, capturing the clash on her cell phone camera. He hides his face as he tries to pull Greg toward the exit. Someone grabs the phone out of the woman’s hand and smashes it before pushing her off the chair. Finally, security arrives to the room just a few steps ahead of Shaw. While security pushes their way in and focuses on getting the melee under control, Tomas is able to get Greg past them. Shaw hears someone shout Greg’s name in a deep yet somewhat feminine voice, and looks in the direction where it was coming from. Shaw catches a better glimpse of their other target, noticing the broad shoulders and thick bone structure despite being quite thin. Once Tomas reaches Shaw at the entrance of the room, she pistol whips Greg and they make their exit. 

“Hey guys, I think I found out what they were doing, but I still don’t know who they’re working with,” Daniel says. 

Leaving the task of questioning of their suspect to Shaw, Tomas moves to the other side of the room out of earshot to speak to Daniel. Shaw could hear Daniel’s loud typing in her earpiece over his conversation with Tomas as she tries to catch the details. 

Daniel continues, “So, it turns they put together a heavily edited audio clip of the confrontation and were going to post it online. I was able to get into their computer and corrupt their edited file as well as the source audio files before they could post it. They targeted Mr. Smit, the seminar speaker, for his well-known status among conservatives, and they sent Greg to bait him.”

“How do you know they planned for Greg to get attacked?” Tomas asks. “I mean, he’s enough of a target just for being who he is, especially in the current political climate. Why would you assume he asked for it?” 

“I thought it was strange that his friend would have chosen the seat directly in front of the speaker podium when there were other empty seats in the same row,” Daniel starts to explain. “People don’t normally like to get too close in another person’s space unless they have an agenda, so I thought it likely they were either recording him or transmitting live audio. I checked for transmission signals and was able to trace them to the public library on 53rd Street. I found the audio files and scrubbed them from their network and infected their hard drive so that it destroyed the local copies too. But before that, I found research files they had on Mr. Smit and his circle of political friends. If you heard the edited audio clip, they were trying to make it sound like he made discriminating comments against Greg for his sexual orientation and then initiated the physical attack. I’ve listened to the recordings you made from Greg’s phone, and it’s clear Greg wasn’t there for the seminar and had been disruptive from the first minute. Listen for yourself. His friend was wearing a microphone and that’s why she was sitting as close to Mr. Smit as possible to catch everything he was saying so they could use his own words against him while projecting them onto a different context.” 

Tomas listens to his recording of the first minute of the seminar and regretfully agrees with Daniel’s assessment. He rejoins Shaw and Greg who were in mid-conversation on the other side of the room. 

“..Smit has friends with political influence, friends who will take away our rights, rights we’ve fought so long and hard for.” Greg says. “The fight needs to be won in any way possible, at any cost,” 

“At the cost of society crumbling? Because that’s what’s going to happen.” Shaw says. 

“Society will crumble if it continues to treat us, and all the marginalized groups, the way they do. Do you know what it’s like to be different? To be treated differently? They want to take away our rights to have children and raise a family. What’s next? Take away our right to be married? Do you know what it’s like to not be able to marry the person you love?” Greg says. 

“I do, but that’s because she’s dead,” Shaw says without any emotion. 

“I’m sor…” Greg starts to apologize, but is abruptly cut off. 

“But what good comes of provoking the other side? You think that’ll convince them to see things your way? It’ll just drive them deeper into their existing beliefs. I’ve always said, ‘what you do is as important as how you do’.” Shaw adds, “And by that metric, you’re a hatemonger.”

“We’ve been kept down for so long. I’m tired of waiting for the world to come around. It’s time they see things our way and to let us live in peace.” Greg says.

“In peace? Like how you let Mr. Smit go about living his life minding his own business?” Shaw says, pointing out the hypocrisy. “You wanna see change? You be the change you want to see.” 

“He’s the one who hates us. He’s the bigot,” Greg argues. 

Tomas cuts Greg off, “And you’re the one trying to entrap someone and have their reputation ruined, their livelihood taken away, having them tried in the court of public opinion through social media based on a twisting of his words that are taken out of context just because he holds differing views from yours.” Tomas then shows Greg a pic of his friend and says, “No doubt your friend, who also happens to be named Greg…” 

Greg interrupts Tomas angrily, “It’s Gracie now. Her name’s Gracie.” 

“Gracie and whoever else you’re working with, tried to post an edited recording of the altercation all over social media. Too bad the video recording is gone with your friend’s phone, and we’ve managed to corrupt the audio recordings she managed to send.” Tomas says. 

Shaw resumes, “You won’t just ruin Smit’s entire life. You’re probably hoping this might create enough public outrage that it will incite others to join your cause. You want public outrage? Well you’re gonna get it, but unfortunately not just from the side you are trying to mobilize in your fight. You can’t fight hate with hate and expect not to destroy each other.”

“We’re aren’t going to just take things lying down,” Greg says. 

“That’s not what I’m telling you to do. What I am saying is that you do things the right way, through the proper channels. Even criminals deserve a fair trial to be judged by a jury of their peers. By all means, advocate, but figure out how to play by the rules. Once you go breaking the rules, it’s only a matter of time before the other side joins you in breaking them, and the result is lawlessness,” Shaw says. 

“What about you kidnapping me then? What does that say about you?” Greg accuses Shaw.

“Kidnapping?!” Shaw says with an eyebrow raise and a look almost of disgust at Greg’s simple judgement of her. “We saved you from getting your ass kicked back there. Now, I want answers. Who put you and your friend up to this?” 

“No one,” Greg says, obviously lying.

“Trust me Greg, you don’t want to lie to me and make me angry,” Shaw says. “You see, it doesn’t really bother me to do whatever it takes to get the information I want.”

“What about your whole speech about not fighting hate with hate, or about being the change you want to see?” Greg hisses. 

“I don’t hate you. I just need information. And I’m not really part of society at large. I don’t exist, as far as society is concerned,” Shaw says. 

“I thought you said you had a girlfriend. Do you know what Smit thinks, what his type of people think, about people like us?” Greg says. “Which side are you guys on anyway?” 

“We’re on humanity’s side, and I couldn’t care less what people think of me. That’s not in my control,” Shaw says. “We’re all responsible for our own actions and thoughts…and feelings.” Shaw says the last word with a tone of disgust.

“Instigating and fabricating conflict just to garner sympathy for your cause is pathetic. You should know that nothing sets back true progress more than false accusation,” Tomas says.

“At the end of the day, you can’t force people to think the way you think. You can show people the way, but they must choose for themselves. It’s not always pretty, but that’s just the way the world works, the way people are. Push them too far too fast, and they will push back. You can’t change humanity. You take this much farther, you’re gonna start a war,” Shaw says. 

“We’re not starting any war. Maybe a war of words,” Greg says.

“You don’t have the foresight to know what your actions will lead to,” Shaw says curtly. “I’m gonna give you a choice. Tell us who you’re working for, and what they’re up to, and you get to go home tonight no worse for wear. Stop inciting the hate and I promise you won’t hear from us ever again. You don’t tell us who you’re working for… well that just makes it more fun for me,” Shaw says, as she opens up a small case of tools, including pliers, a small hammer, screwdriver and utility knife. “So, what’s it gonna be?” she says with a smile as she runs her fingers over the various tools, thinking of the fun ways she could use each one. 

“It’s just me and a few friends from Jackson Heights,” Greg says. “Some of us have been attacked before, so we started this to fight back.” 

“Smart. Poke the bear,” Shaw says sarcastically. 

“Look, we’re just trying to do the best we can to help each other,” Greg says. 

“Ok, I hear you. But that’s not the way to go about it,” Shaw says as she lets out a sigh. 

“Please, just let me go.” Greg begs. 

“Do better or we’ll be seeing you again, and your friends too, the next time,” Shaw warns him before letting him go. 

Tomas and Shaw make most of their way back to base in silence. Tomas knew getting involved in working with Shaw would be fun and promise lots of action while he was waiting for his next opportunity for a worthwhile heist. He also understood it would likely be more dangerous than he was used to, but he had been willing to take that risk if it meant having a chance to get close to her. 

Finally, after fifteen minutes of silence, Tomas can’t help but ask what’s on his mind. “So…you’re attracted to women, huh?” Tomas states, not bothering to mask the disappointment in his voice. 

“I just told him what was needed at the moment so that he’d hear what I had to say,” Shaw replies in a matter of fact sort of way, without turning to look at Tomas. 

“It’s fine. I’m just curious… not that I’m here just because, well, you know… but if that’s not your thing...” Tomas gets cut off. 

“I’m not into anyone if that’s what you’re asking,” Shaw says. After a few seconds, Shaw adds, “But I am into having a good time,” while shooting a sideways glance at Tomas with a slight raise of an eyebrow. Tomas flashes his charming smile and Shaw lets out a smirk. 

“Well, that, I can help with,” Tomas says, his smile turning into a confident grin.

\-----------------

Over a month passes since they let Greg go, and still the team cannot figure out any connection between the remaining numbers. While Greg and Gracie’s numbers come off the Machine’s list, the nineteen remaining numbers are retained day after day. During that time, there were ten new numbers that came up, and those turned out to be imminent murders, which, fortunately, they were successful in stopping. Yet, there have been no suspicious deaths, or any deaths for that matter, that they could trace in any way to the remaining recurring numbers. Tomas wants to spend more time with Shaw, but Shaw had been preoccupied with tracking down a friend in all of her spare time. Tomas surmises it was probably someone she used to work with, but didn’t know any more than that, and he knows better than to pry for information that Shaw hasn’t willingly shared. 

Shaw finally finds a new lead on her friend and tells Daniel and Tomas she is heading to Paris for several days. She plans to make the trip to France by herself, but Tomas insists on coming along. Tomas will spend his days scoping out possible new targets for his next heist and socializing with his contacts in the world of wine. They agree that Tomas would stay out of Shaw’s way, and they would meet up only for dinner each day they were there. Shaw doesn’t mind Tomas as long as he keeps to those terms. Besides, he knows the restaurants with the best wine, and most importantly, best liquor selection. She has Tomas make her a list of the best restaurants in Paris, and he happily obliges. “You know, most of these places are hard to get into on such short notice. Some of them are only taking bookings weeks or even months from now. But lucky for you, I can get us into almost all of these places even on short notice,” Tomas brags a little. “Just let me know where you wanna go and I’ll make it happen.”

“Why don’t you pick the place for tonight. Just make sure they serve a nice big steak, emphasis on the big,” Shaw replies. 

Shaw spends the next two days following up on her new lead. She doesn’t want any help from Tomas, knowing how her friend valued privacy and wouldn’t like it if anyone else found out about him. It had been one of the reasons she hadn’t tried to track him down sooner. She isn’t even sure her friend is still alive. Her lead isn’t particularly strong, but it’s something. Maybe she is grasping at straws, but with so many numbers, the stakes seem too high to continue to do nothing productive about them back in New York. Of course, there is a possibility that The Machine is malfunctioning, but that would be even more reason to find out. Without the financial resources and level of skill the team once had, it has been difficult to make any progress. Shaw isn’t sure if she’d seen enough of the DC team’s skill set to fully trust them, plus she doesn’t want to have to play by anyone’s rules but her own. While Tomas is quite capable, he was no Reese. Similarly, Daniel was more than competent, but he was no Finch. And they don’t have a Root. Her mind wanders off at the thought of Root again, like it so often does.

“If I had Root, I wouldn’t need anyone else,” Shaw thinks to herself out loud. Shaw is now quite certain this is reality, but occasionally she still questions things. She wonders, of all of the members of the team, how was it that besides herself, the only other one who made it out alive was Fusco, the most pedestrian of them all. She is glad he is alive though. Over time, Fusco had grown on her, maybe even to a point where she might consider him a real friend, if she could have real friends. Different than Reese and Finch. Sure they may have been her ‘friends’ too in the sense that she trusted them with her life and they could trust her with theirs, but she didn’t truly feel anything for them. She couldn’t describe what it was about Fusco, but there was usually a lightheartedness when she was around him. 

Still, she questions how it could be that Reese, Finch and Root had all likely perished. She has come to accept Root’s death though. Shaw knew she was crazy enough to do anything for The Machine, and as an extension of that, had been willing to sacrifice herself for Finch, or anyone on the team, really. And if it had instead been her in the situation, Shaw would have done the same to protect Finch. Shaw cares for Root more than she’d like to admit, and it had hurt, still hurts, that she’s gone. But there probably wasn’t ever going to be a future for them anyway, not in the way Root had always wanted and Shaw had come to desire as well. Samaritan would have made it impossible for that. But at least, before the end, Root had felt like she belonged, that she’d found a home. Shaw finds comfort in that and knows she can keep Root alive in her memories. 

Suddenly, her phone beeps, and takes her away from her thoughts. Daniel had sent her the file she had asked for. It was a list of reservation bookings for a restaurant named Chez Vallée. The list included the upcoming bookings but also listed historical bookings all the way back to October. While reviewing the reservations list, a somewhat frequent but erratically recurring name catches her eye, “Mr. Cygnet” and always for a party of two. She notices his bookings go only as far back as December, and that it just so happens that Mr. Cygnet’s next dinner reservation was scheduled for this Friday night at 7 pm, two nights from now. Shaw calls Daniel and asks him to hack the reservations list and get her and Tomas a table in a strategic spot for 6 pm. 

When Shaw tells Tomas they are going to Chez Vallée for dinner, he is surprised as that restaurant has a six month reservation waitlist and even he likely couldn’t have gotten a reservation despite knowing the manager. Of course, he then realizes Shaw must have somehow hacked into the reservations database to get them in, and starts to wonder if this is Shaw trying to impress him, (not that she needs to or hasn’t already). 

They are given a table close enough to the entrance to be able to see each person as they are taken inside to their respective tables, but not so close as to be seen from the waiting area. Shaw isn’t even sure of her lead, but it was the best she could come up with. It was something small, a trivial detail that had led her to this restaurant. The restaurant had changed its dessert menu a couple of months ago and added sea salt caramel ice cream as one of the choices even though it was the middle of January at the time. She’d remembered Fusco mentioning the flavour of ice cream as one of Finch’s little quirks. Apparently, when Fusco was driving Grace to the airport to start her new life in Italy, she had been reminiscing about her time with Harold and shared a couple of inconsequential things she found endearing about him. Normally Shaw didn’t care for small talk, but because Finch was so private and it had been impossible to find out any personal details about him despite having tried, this little tidbit of information had stuck with her. 

Shaw pretends to pay attention to what Tomas is saying as he chats over dinner while Shaw picks at her side salad. She doesn’t eat salad, but figured it would make it less awkward or noticeable that she’d finished her steak in less than five minutes if she still had food on her plate. When Mr. Cygnet and his companion are taken to their table, Mr. Cygnet puts his arm around his companion and nudges her to walk in front of him as they follow the host. He shoots Shaw an acknowledging glance. Shaw, makes brief eye contact with her secretive friend. 

Shaw decides to give him a chance to settle in and order their food before she approaches. Her friend knows better than to run out on her because if she has to track him down a second time, she would be angry and he knows better than to make Shaw angry, on purpose, anyway. She thought he would have been even more careful now than ever before in light of the whole cyber apocalypse, but he had been easier to track than Shaw had expected. She honestly wasn’t sure she’d be able to track him down at all if he didn’t want to be found. Finally, as they bring the dessert menu, Shaw tells Tomas to order her a slice of the lemon buttercream cake before excusing herself and making her way to the bar area, away from Tomas’ sightline. From there, she makes a phone call to the restaurant asking for a Mr. Cygnet and she watches as someone brings the phone to her friend. 

“Thank you,” the man says to the staff person as he simultaneously excuses himself from the table. His companion nods back with a small smile in acknowledgement, and takes a sip of her drink. She appears happy, Shaw thinks. But then again, what does Shaw know about happiness. Shaw tells her friend where to meet her in the corner of the bar area, tucked out of sight from their respective company. With the louder ambiance in the bar area, they don’t need to worry about being overheard. 

“Ms. Shaw,” her friend says as he approaches. 

“Finch,” Shaw responds. 

“We can’t meet like this again. It will put Grace in too much danger,” Harold says, always prioritizing Grace over everything and everyone else. 

“You’re getting sloppy. The old Finch wouldn’t have let me find him unless he wanted me to,” Shaw says. 

“I’m trying to give Grace the life she deserves, a normal life,” Harold says. Then sighs, “Or as normal as I can give her anyway. But that comes at a price, too.” 

“So you clued her in on who you really are, what you created, and your multiple lives? I guess she took it well. I mean she’s still here. Although I notice there’s no ring.” 

“It wasn’t that easy. I told her everything, and about the continued risks of being linked to me. She’d said I’d broken her trust when I let her think I was dead, although remembering her kidnapping, she understood the reason for my choice. She also told me that she hadn’t felt whole since she thought I died, and she’s willing to risk her life if it means we could have a second chance together. But I want her to have some time to get used to things before we decide whether to still get married. I’m not sure if she can live such a life and still be happy.” 

“She seems pretty happy to me,” Shaw says. “You don’t have to be married to be happy. You have needs. She has needs. Marriage isn’t a prerequisite.”

“Yes, Ms. Shaw, but there are others who view marriage differently,” Harold replies. 

“Hey I’m not judging. Just saying,” Shaw says.

“Not everyone can be as casual about relationships as you,” Harold says. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You judging me?” Shaw asks.

“Not judging. Just stating an observation,” Harold says. “It didn’t take you long to convince Tomas to join you. I’m somewhat aware that you’re carrying on our old cause. I assume that’s why you’re here.” 

Shaw explains the numbers that they can’t figure out, yet are still retained on The Machine’s list, which would mean they are likely relevant to national security. However, if The Machine only alerts of imminent threats, it would appear The Machine’s numbers protocol may not be working as it was meant to because it has been over a month and they still can’t link any deaths or suspicious activity to any of those numbers. Without directly asking her friend to rejoin, Shaw remarks, “Of course, not having the old team and access to more resources makes the job tougher than it used to be.” 

“I’m sorry Ms. Shaw, I can’t be involved, and you’d be wise to disentangle yourself as well. The Machine has put everyone I know and care for in danger. It’s manipulative and won’t hesitate to sacrifice you too if it serves to complete its objectives,” Harold pauses, looking down with a pained expression, before adding, “…like it did with Root, Elias…and John.” 

Shaw isn’t surprised by the news about John, but is somewhat satisfied to finally learn what happened to him. “The alternative was a world under Samaritan rule, where none of us were ever actually living, but just surviving,” Shaw says, starting to get annoyed with Harold. “And The Machine didn’t sacrifice them. They knew what they were doing and they knew the risks. It was their own choice. They sacrificed themselves,” Shaw points out. “And to be fair to the Machine, Root sacrificed herself to save your ass, not hers. Elias too. And probably John, since I’m guessing you tried to do something too risky all by yourself that he couldn’t possibly allow. And knowing you’re the only one who could possibly save the world from cyber apocalypse should another one materialize, especially after Root…” 

“Are you sure it was that simple?” Harold interrupts. “Over the last few months, I’ve been thinking about what transpired, since Root took that bullet for me. I’m truly sorry for your loss Sameen, and yes, I do owe it to Root for saving my life that day. At the time, it was perhaps what I needed to motivate me to put an end to Samaritan at all costs. It was my fault that I was discovered and put all of you in danger, and at the time, I felt that the only way I could start to repay my debt to Root, or at least to her memory, would be to stop Samaritan. But now, looking back, perhaps that was The Machine’s plan all along, to have Root killed, Elias too, to drive me to break all of my rules. All of that just so that I would aid in its objective to destroy Samaritan. It manipulated me into doing its bidding, and I fell for it. And John too, The Machine tricked me into letting him upload the virus to the satellite, knowing whomever did it would not survive. Why did The Machine not allow me to do it? Why did she send John to his death instead of me? Was she playing favourites? I can’t say for certain, but as capable as John is, let’s face it, he would have been awful company for The Machine. How can I trust it ever again, knowing it has so little regard for individual human lives, especially those of her agents?”

“But isn’t that what she was programmed to do? To sacrifice the life of one to save the many? Look, Harold, I get it, you’re upset. But that doesn’t mean the numbers aren’t still worth saving,” Shaw says. 

“I can’t be anywhere near anything to do with The Machine anymore. I can’t help because it will put my and Grace’s new identity at risk,” Harold says. 

“Well, maybe if you could just look under the hood or something and at least help us fix her if something’s screwy. We don’t know the extent of the damage her copy sustained while in final battle with Samaritan’s copy. She can’t talk, except giving us SSNs, but we aren’t sure the numbers protocol is entirely working properly. Or there might be a new bug. Daniel thought he was able to write some code to restore some of The Machine’s abilities, but he can’t get it to take either. I get it if you don’t want to be back into the field… or rather, behind the desk…. But can you just take a quick look at her, patch her up?” Shaw asks. 

“No, I’m sorry. Grace is all that matters now. She’s my only priority. I am not going to let The Machine take anyone else away from me. I’d prefer that you didn’t join them, but I’m not foolish enough to try to stop you. But given your choice to continue, your mere presence is a threat to Grace, and I can’t have that. So this has to be the last time. We can’t meet again.” 

“You can’t just walk away from it all,” Shaw says, not knowing what else to say to convince Finch.

“Sure I can. I have already put Grace through so much, I can’t let her get hurt again. She had said that accepting my death, although painful, it paled in comparison to the pain she felt with the knowledge that I had left her for what was supposed to be forever, and let her think I was dead when I wasn’t. She was so happy that I was alive, yet crushed that I did that to her. She said that I should have told her and given her that choice, that I shouldn’t have assumed she would have been better off without me, even if it was for her own safety. It was hard to gain back her trust over the last few months, and I suppose I don’t deserve it. But she remembered the man I was before, and her promise to me then, that there was nothing I could say or do that would drive her away or make her stop loving me. I’m trying hard to be that man again.” Harold says. 

“Finch,” Shaw says. 

Harold interrupts, “No, Ms. Shaw.” Then Harold’s voice softens a little, “Sameen, I am truly glad to see you alive and well. And I’m not opposed to your continuing to save lives, but I simply cannot be a part of it anymore. You can keep using the safe houses. No one will be able to tie them back to me as Mr. Cygnet. But I cannot be giving any sort of further assistance, financial or otherwise.” 

“Harold, you can’t unsee the things you’ve seen. You can’t take back your actions. You aren’t the same man you were. For better or worse, you’ve grown. Don’t you think Grace deserves to know the real you, not the version of you from a decade ago that you’re trying to be? If she is truly the one for you, she will love you regardless, or perhaps, because you’ve grown. You shouldn’t need to change who you are. It shouldn’t be that hard.” 

Harold pauses a moment, thinking how strange that Ms. Shaw, of all people, is giving him advice on relationships. As he turns to leave, he says, “Please send my regards to our dear detective. Goodbye Sameen.”


End file.
